Just My Luck
by PiperElizabethMcLean
Summary: Only the worst would happen to poor Fang when he sees Max after a long while. Not to mention it happens after the steamy make-out session. FAX! Written for the Starlit Awards! Details inside ONESHOT, Rated T description FAXXXX! What more could you ask for? Kissing never turns out good in the end... Hit that super awesome review button! PiperElizabethMcLean


**mer: I don't own anything! Just the idea from the picture I got on the STARLIT AWARDS!**

**For more information, or to participate, visit: thestarlitawards. blogspot. com (no space)**

**It's basically a Fax-based competition! Please visit, I'm a judge. This is for picture number 2. ONESHOT**

Just My Luck

Max had her own apartment. Yes, her very own apartment, in New York, to be exact. It was after the apocalypse, and the big war that she finally settled down, and got away from the Flock.

Not that the Flock was the problem. It wasn't anybody's fault; she was a twenty-two year old woman now, and she needed her space. Besides, the rest of the Flock lived in the outskirts of NYC, in their own flat. They were perfectly fine; Max joined them every few nights for a big dinner.

She had her apartment kept in nice order. But of course, she had food in boxes and already made, because God knows she couldn't cook. Everyone knew that.

But tonight she wouldn't need to eat cereal for dinner. No, tonight she had an actual reason to order in.

Fang was coming over.

It had been a while since she had anybody over. Max wasn't a very good house-keeper, so she preferred not to have very much company.

She hadn't seen Fang since he had gone to Canada on a project for his blog. So, he had just gotten back this morning, and asked if they could make plans.

At her apartment.

Alone.

Which Max was perfectly okay with. She just had to tidy up a bit; move things around. Like the dresser she had in the middle of her living area. That had never even made it to the bedroom.

So after tidying up her apartment, she wasn't surprised to hear the buzzer, signaling that someone was at the door.

Max was glad she had taken a shower the night before, because if she hadn't, her hair would've been a mess. Not that Fang had seen her in worse conditions- but this was a reuniting kind of thing. It had to be special.

When she flung open the door, Fang stood awkwardly, donned in black- as usual.

"I am not surprised," Max chuckled, holding the door open with a foot. "You're wearing all black. Well, come on in."

Fang sauntered into the apartment. "It smells like bleach."

"I like clean houses." She said smugly.

"Yeah," Fang turned with a smirk on his face, sarcasm entering his voice. "And I like pigs with wigs."

"I didn't know you adored Miss Piggy," Max said sarcastically, throwing herself onto the couch. He hadn't changed much- he was still taller than most guys her age, and had a tiny bit of stubble on his jaw.

"Oh, we're tight." Fang laughed. "You wouldn't know. You stay holed up here all the time."

"I do not," Max protested. "I go flying… and other things."

"Iggy has a girlfriend," Fang took a seat in the armchair across the room. "And the kids are all in high school, junior high at the least. Akila is on her third litter."

"I knew that," She huffed, "I go by the house every now and then."

"Max, what do you do?" He questioned. "Nobody really knows."

"I don't _do _anything." She murmured. "I'm looking for a roommate. I can't keep going without a job, either."

Fang's eyes softened. "I could be your roommate."

Her gaze fastened on him. "You're serious?"

He moved couches to be closer to her. "Max, I still love you."

This shocked her. Of course, she felt the same way- she would never feel any other way about Fang- but this. This was a lot to take in; especially since she had been socially awkward for the past few years.

"Y-you do?" Max stuttered. She thought about kicking herself later for it. "Oh."

"Yes," Fang said seriously. He seemed to be so close to Max; his breath was on her neck, the scent of him in her nose- everything. If she were younger, all she had to do was lean up and kiss him. And that would solve everything.

"What are you going to do about it?" She whispered, careful not to make her voice sound too shaky. He smirked, his eyes fluttering until they were half-closed, his long, long black lashes sweeping down. Max was sure any artist would love to draw them, with charcoal, oils- anything. He was just too beautiful.

And suddenly his arms were pinned behind her, her back against the couch. And his lips were on her, hot and heavy, the way it had always been, connecting like a missing puzzle piece, finally found. It felt like a reward; like she had done something right. Like at the School, a long, long time ago, when all she had to do was pass a test and she'd get treated somewhat better for a few moments. He was her reward.

And she was his. Fang had waited for a long time to have her in his arms again. Her hand curled into his shirt, pulling his closer, and he couldn't resist peeking just to see her beautifully curled lashes, the soft swift of her multicolored, all-natural hair. Everything about her was his- her laugh, her smile. She was his, and he was hers.

His hand came behind her head, gently, and his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. This seemed to turn on a switch, because she pulled him down closer, closer until her lips could smash freely on his own.

And then a sensation crept through his body, pulling at his stomach. He pulled away from her, un-tangling himself from her body. "Excuse me," He said as his stomach rumbled.

"What's the matter?" Max sat upright on the couch. Had she done something wrong? Had he realized who he was kissing, and didn't want her anymore? Was he playing her?

"I've got to use your bathroom," Fang apologized. "If you do not mind…"

"Go ahead," She waved her hand. "Through my bedroom and there's a bathroom."

"I'll be right back," He told her. A part of him looked like he didn't want to leave.

"I'll be right here." She promised. He hurried to the bathroom.

Max waited while he was busying himself. She straightened her hair, moved the pillows around, so that incase he wanted to kiss her more like they were doing, it would be more comfortable. She even picked up her shoes from the floor and tossed them into a basket by the door. She wondered into the kitchen and made them two glasses of tea.

She straightened her magazine stack, re-hung his jacket on the coatrack- only after inhaling his wonderful familiar scent- and closed the curtains just a bit. She retrieved the remote from in between the couch cushions.

Finally, having nothing more to do, she waited on the couch.

Meanwhile, Fang was in the bathroom. He had just gotten done- he swore to himself he'd never have that much Canadian bacon and Monetary Jack cheese ever again- and realized how long he had taken in the bathroom. Who knew what Max was thinking of him? After a major make-out, he was taking a dump in her bathroom? Odd, but a guy has to do what a guy has to do.

So he reached for the toilet paper.

And his hands brushed nothing. Horrified, he stood and looked behind him on top of the toilet's tank. There was nothing beside shampoo bottles. He looked under the sink. There were bleach bottles and a box of disposable toothbrushes. He tried the towel cabinet- nothing.

It was just his luck that he'd go to the bathroom at his- was Max his girlfriend now? - Girlfriend's house and there wouldn't be any toilet paper.

"Max," He called awkwardly, cracking the door a bit. "Er- Max?"

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